Chicago-based songwriter <person>Daniel Knox</person> is a man with a knack for backstory: he works as a late-shift cinema projectionist, and taught himself piano on dilapidated instruments in the city’s hotel lobbies. The scene-setting on his fourth album is even richer: the stunning The Poisoner, featuring the grand vocals of <person>Nina Nastasia</person>, is based on a horrific incident from <person>Knox</person>’s own life, a slow, secret poisoning by a former partner, and is stately and eldritch, with rich brass.
<person>Knox</person>’s own voice is resonant with cavernous vibrato, gothically gracing the sort of Nilsson-ish chamber pop that <person>John Grant</person> does so well, with hints of Tindersticks and <person>Tom Waits</person>, on Mrs Roth and Man Is an Animal, and finding deep emotional resonance – as well as dark wit – on songs such as Anna14, a Nick Cave-esque piano ballad with subtly shaded keys. He’s only outdone by <person>Jarvis Cocker</person>, who excels among the creepy exotica of Capitol – “the mind is gone, the body lingers” – and, inevitably, somewhat steals the show. Chasescene confirms <person>Knox</person> as a master storyteller, and is a record to settle into on dark nights, glad that you’re only a listener to its frightful tales.